A Night At The Three Broomsticks
by ClaireBear1982
Summary: Barty Crouch Jr and some of his former Slytherin pals go out for pre-Christmas drinks. Things get a bit raucous between Barty and Amycus... Rated T.
QLFC - Season 4. Captain of the Wimbourne Wasps.

Round 1 - Where My Death Eaters At?

We'll be giving some special appreciation to our favourite antagonists this round! The catch? There will be absolutely no Death Eater-y stuff allowed! No torturing muggles, wreaking havoc, or trying to take over the world. Just the casual lives of these evil little fellas. May it be fluff, angst or romance, the choice is all yours.

Clarification Note: If your character willingly became a Death Eater (IE - wasn't Imperiused into it) at some point in the series, then feel free to write about them for this round!

CAPTAIN: Write about your chosen Death Eater being with their friends

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A Night At The Three Broomsticks

It was just before Christmas and Barty Crouch Jr was out with some of his former Slytherin housemates for a pre-seasonal drink. Those who had decided to accompany him to Hogsmeade consisted of Amycus Carrow, Rabastan Lestrange, and Severus Snape.

Upon arriving, Barty had demanded they be given a private parlour. Madam Rosmerta wasn't happy about having them in her pub, for she was sure they were followers of You-Know-Who. But given that she had no proof, she had no choice but to give into their wishes.

Once they were comfortably settled, Severus casually set about lighting a fire in the grate, whilst Barty and Amycus went to the bar to order several rounds of Mead and Firewhiskey.

The evening started off well enough - jovial and amicable. But as the night wore on, Barty and Amycus especially started to get competitive. Soon, they were seeing who could drink whom under the table.

"I bet you ten Galleons I can drink more than you can," sneered Amycus, his top lip curling in a sneer.  
"I bet you twenty Galleons I can drink more than you can," countered Barty spiritedly, determination in his eyes and on his face.

Rabastan sat grinning at the pair of them; he knew Amycus better than Barty did, and knew that Amycus Carrow could neck a serious amount of alcohol and still Apparate in a straight line.

Severus, meanwhile, looked on in disdain. A pure look of scorn marred his sallow features. He was not one for these childish games, but being here was better than being at home with a miserable mother and an abusive father. The Dark Lord had no missions planned, plus alcohol made him stop thinking so much of his former best friend - Lily Evans.

So the drinking began in earnest. Between each tankard of Mead, they were to do a shot of Firewhiskey - then perform a simple charm without messing it up.

The first few rounds all went smoothly. One tankard of Mead, one shot of Firewhiskey, one Wingardium Leviosa. One tankard of Mead, one shot of Firewhiskey, one Accio. One tankard of Mead, one shot of Firewhiskey, one Vera Verto - using the bird Barty had summoned out of a nearby tree to his outstretched hand.

After that, it became one tankard of Mead, and two shots of Firewhiskey. After the fifth round, Rabastan had been knocked unconscious by Amycus after a _Stupefy_ went slightly awry. Meaning Severus was left to reawaken his companion because Barty was lying on the floor, laughing like a drunken halfwit.

By the seventh round of drinks, Barty was starting to feel decidedly ill. Not that he'd ever admit to it. He was not about to loose twenty Galleons to a prat like Amycus Carrow. So he called a halt to the proceedings so that he could go and relieve himself, and maybe splash his face with some water as he was feeling quite warm.

On the way back to the parlour, Severus waylaid Barty.

"I think you've had enough, Barty. I don't fancy having to tell your Father you're in St Mungo's."

"S'verus, Severus, Sev. I'm fine, I can still cast a shield charm quicker than that block of wood," said Barty, indicating to Amycus who was slumped in a chair by the fire, fighting to stay awake.

"On your own head be it then," said Severus, his voice quiet. "I think I'm going to go home."

He gave Barty a curt nod, turned on his heel, pulled his hood up over his head and marched away.

When Barty returned to the parlour, he announced that Severus had given up and gone home, and asked if anyone else want to do the same. As he said it, he gave Amycus a wicked glance.

Rabastan, for his part, decided he no longer wished to be there - he could see this turning into a real and very ugly fight. One he had no wish to be a part of.

Once he was gone, Barty and Amycus carried on. Round by round, drink by drink, spell by spell, they gradually became more and more aggressive. Soon, Barty had a slash in his arm. But Barty had countered that by gouging a lump of flesh out of Amycus' leg, making him scream in pain.

On and on it went, until they were both dishevelled bloody messes. When Madam Rosmerta came in to tell them that she was closing up for the night, she found them both passed out on the floor.

"Wake up, wake up, you pair of stupid gits," she said crossly, giving them both a good hard shove with the toe of her shoe. But neither stirred.

Next, she tried a shot of freezing cold water over each of them from the tip of her wand. That had them awake again.

"What the bloody hell are you playing at, woman?" yelled a very wet, very pissed off Amycus.

"I'm closing up for the night, now sling yer hooks," scolded Madam Rosmerta.

"There are nicer ways to wake a fella up you know," said Barty lasciviously as he looked Rosmerta up and down.

She felt her skin crawl as the little fiend gave her the once over. Mentally she shook herself; she needed these two out of her pub now.

"Just get out, go on, out now. Or do I need to summon Magical Law Enforcement to drag you out of here?"

Not sure if her threat was real, Barty and Amycus headed for the door. Once they were outside, the cold night air nipped at the exposed skin on their faces and hands.

"That was some match up, kid; we'll have to do that again sometime," said Amycus appreciatively.

Barty snorted with derision. There was no way was he ever doing that again. Right now, Amycus was so drunk that he'd forgotten their little wager, and Barty had no plans on ever mentioning it again. (Especially as Amycus had won in the end. The effects of the alcohol had knocked him out, and the force of the _flipendo_ had knocked Barty out clean).

Amycus was so drunk this time that as he tried to Apparate away, he stumbled and fell over. This made Barty start laughing raucously.

"Shut it yer little bastard," said Amycus nastily. Barty shut up and glared at the drunken ass before him.

"I was going to offer to help you get home, but if that's your attitude, you can sod off," said Barty crossly as he gave the older man a hard shove.

With that, Barty concentrated as hard as he could on Apparating home. His first try got him nowhere, and opened his eyes to find himself still on the snowy street in Hogsmeade. His second attempt was a tiny bit better, but he found himself just a bit further up the street. On the third attempt he got it. He opened his eyes and found himself outside of his family's home, now he just had to sneak in without waking his father.


End file.
